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Rolan kept a careful eye on the formation of the Talderian Knights, noting the fluid way they moved and responded to each threat. The center was weakened, but in a manner that couldn't be exploited, withdrawing from the smoke in good order to limit exposure and use it for cover. Clever, his tactic both working and being unable to be exploited was an interesting feeling to recognize, to say little of watching the seemingly indiscriminate barrage of magic accomplish even less. He had a feeling that they would have a means of protecting themselves from ranged barrages, but watching the magic simply split and scatter around the shields was not what he would have expected. Watching Renar, Gerard, Fionn, and Fleuri crash into the ranks of the opposing Knights made it clear that brute force wasn't going to work alone. The danger in the enemy was becoming apparent. Individual skill didn't mean a damn thing in regimental warfare, not until said individual skill could fell regiments on its own. The Iron Roses had grown, yes, but not a one of them was going to fell a regiment on the backswing, not even Gertrude, who's magic had been rather unceremoniously scattered, though it gave him an idea. An idea that would require the aid of the Gertrude, unfortunately, but needs must as he stepped back alongside the mage.

"They seem determined to insult you, Lady Gertrude, might I recommend a more focused, potent strike just ahead of the advancing Roses? A demonstration of precision and power would surely be in order, and create openings to exploit in their unity."

While speaking, Rolan swapped to a bodkin tipped bolt, but rather than immediately load it, grabbed another flask from his pouch, this one looking bright orange and ready to escape at a moment's notice. Alchemist's Fire, one of the oldest concoctions put into service in combat as far as he had been taught, using the bodkin tip to pierce, but not open, the stopper on the flask. With that, he had created an impromptu flaming bolt that would splash copious amounts of intensely burning reagent over the unfortunate Talderian Knights who would get caught in its impact. Alone, their shields could block it rather readily, even if it wasn't magical, which is where his plan came in to play. Gertrude, ideally stoked by his prodding of her ego, forced enough of the second rank knights to form a shield barrier to stop the attack, and the front ranks were distracted by the advancing Iron Roses. Rolan would, at that moment, send the Alchemist's Fire bolt straight into the ranks guarding against Gertrude's magic, and create a far more useful gap in the enemy ranks than his fading smoke screen had. Assuming everything fell into place, of course, relying on a mage's ego was not something he would consider doing lightly in any other circumstance. Readying his crossbow, a more religious man might pray, but Rolan was not terribly devout, focusing himself to make a very narrow shot through the melee when, and if, the magical strike came down.

@Octo
Yūma frowned as the warrior woman spirit disengaged, rushing to the aid of the Samurai while he had been in no effective position to prevent this retreat from occurring. A downside of brass knuckles, his reach was only as good as his arms, but more importantly, it was disappointing that the most interesting fight this whole mission had up and ran off to play hero. The odds were swinging in their favor at last, even as A-188 got blasted into submission, leaving the remaining Agents to deal with the samurai and onna-bushi. The Samurai seemed hell bent on preventing this, unleashing a veritable barrage of lightning, arcing every which way, forcing him to evade at least several of the many blasts that were being emitted like someone would with an automatic shotgun. Rude, and during his evasion, he had a simple goal in mind.

Continuing to move himself into an ideal position, Yūma was watching for the onna-bushi to become engaged, before drawing his pistol again. One shot left, time to make it count, and the moment the sword wielding woman was unable to intercede, Yūma would fire off his last shot, aiming squarely to put the bullet between the eyes of the Samurai and put an end to this once and for all. It would be anti-climatic if it worked, but Yūma was going to have to deal with the fact that he had been robbed a good fight, so might as well rob the Samurai of a proper, honorable death in close quarters. Especially if he was insistent on firing off lightning arrows at the volume he was clearly intending to, that simply would not do, and trying to get close from his current position would have just gotten in the way of the other Agents, so he relied on accuracy with his pistol instead.
Yūma was keeping track of the goings on as best he could out of the corner of his eye. The samurai had been disarmed, only to produce a bow with lightning for arrows. Great, fantastic, though that didn't seem to throw off Agent Zhao as he redirected the lightning back towards the komainu before coming down on it like a ton of bricks. A-188 was barreling into the explosive wielding enemies, another slight problem he was in no position to address but had to leave to the Anomaly to handle instead. Agent Murakami was throwing out all the stops, apparently, the bright white flame of the blade directed squarely at the Samurai would, hopefully, put an end to this. Until then, however, he still had a fight that was turning out to actually be engaging to get to.

The actual facial expressions, gritted teeth and all, were unexpected frankly. The other spirits had simply taken blows stoically, fading into the black ooze when destroyed, not this one though. Coupled with the resilience to all the incense, there was more going on here than it seemed. Still, her response to move back from the momentum, coupled with going for another weapon, was smart. Pushing back off the pinned naginata, Yūma aimed to evade the midlevel swipe. Higher or lower he could have evaded forward, be it under or over the blade, but he didn't have supernatural powers to boost his movements like the other agents. The blade was close to striking its mark, but as it passed, Yūma couldn't let the spirit woman retain the momentum.

Pushing off his backfoot, hard, Yūma launched himself forward, ducking low and moving towards the side that the blade was passing to now. He needed to get in close, stay in close, throwing a straight left towards the spirit's core again, aiming to land more body blows. He had to trust the others to handle the ashigaru chaff, letting this one close to Agent Mae would be not ideal, given its displayed resilience so far. Which meant he had to keep the aggression up, following up the straight by keeping in close and throwing a rapid series of jabs and hooks, trying to keep the spirit from going back on the offensive again. Besides, this was far more interesting than simply brawling through disposable, identical ashigaru, and the loose grin on Yūma's face as he pressed the attack was evidence of that.
Candaeln


Rolan knew he was far from an expert, let alone master, of alchemy by the time Silenna had finally admitted he wasn't going to blow himself up, at least probably. While it wouldn't show by the time the Knights escaped this place with their newfound training and experience, he had more than his fair share of burns, even attempting to be showing due caution when appropriate. He had filled his journal with a fairly dense volume of recipes, notes, and musings when he hadn't been busy preparing various mixtures and practicing techniques he never had use or knowledge of prior to finding another teacher. Still, he had focused his efforts as much as he could, spending as much time as he had available to learn and focus on just that, learning and cramming as much information into his head as possible. Eventually he had been informed that there was a celebration to be held back at Candaeln, something that he was going to pass on until he was, metaphorically, dragged out of the alchemy lab by Silenna.

Spending some time at least observing those who came along, Silenna practically throwing herself at Florian was understandable, frankly. If Rolan had to pick one of the knights, Florian was probably up there among the top choices, though he wouldn't be saying that particular comment out loud. Instead, he would be taking the opportunity to leave the party early, ideally with little notice. With the challenges ahead, he needed to prepare ahead of time, and would spend a great deal of time brewing and bottling a variety of concoctions that he had learned during his training. Knowledge of them would be useful once back in the real space, but better to put them into practice now. To do that, he needed to prepare, and that would need focus, so better to let the others who had more earned their celebrations proceed.




Eastwards Road


The plan wasn't great, despite its flexibility. Get past the veritable regiment of Knights, the personal retinue of the Talderian Prince being a veritable regiment of identically equipped, no doubt skilled, knights. Even after a portion stepped aside and out of the way, they were still hopelessly outnumbered. The plan was distract, scatter, and whoever had an opening breach forward and reach the throne. Easy to say, at least, and Rolan was near the back of the band of the Iron Roses, considering the options. Light breeze wasn't strong enough to worry him about throwing off his aim, and for once he was confident in not referring to his crossbow aim, although that would be vital as well.

Plucking a bottle from his pack, knowing that they wouldn't be coming with him once they made it, Rolan hurled it high, the arcing bottle well above the ranks of the Talderian knights. At a glance, it would sail harmlessly past both knights and Throne, but without wasting a moment, Rolan brought his crossbow to shoulder, and loosed a bolt to shatter open the lobbed flask. The plan was to loose a caustic cloud of acrid smoke, something he had learned in a mistaken mixture while learning. Rather than remember it to avoid making the mistake again, he had weaponized his missteps in learning, keeping the formula as a way of disruption. The mixture wouldn't be killing anytime soon, not with how soon the heavier than air cloud would eventually disperse, but it would hopefully scatter and disrupt the center of the formation. More importantly, the disruptive effects of the acrid smoke would hopefully distract those unaffected by the vapors by helping their allies. That was his plan, you couldn't do much for a dead ally, but a blinded and coughing one, that one a tightly knit group of fellows would be quick to not leave behind. Still, as he reloaded, Rolan kept a wary eye out for targets of opportunity or, if he was particularly lucky, an opening to rush the Throne, warning the other Roses of his actions.

"Mind the smoke while you advance, it won't last long but the side effects will."
Yūma was not a fan of how things were progressing right now. The constant, confined sound of arquebus fire had already been deafening, and now the ashigaru force had drummed up cannons of all things, something that, quite frankly, he was neither equipped nor positioned to deal with. The samurai was not going down easy, there were Guardian Statues rushing them down now, and to top it all off, his attack on the naginata wielding spirit had only distracted her, the rest splitting and moving like professional soldiers, an impressive block giving momentum enough to create distance to bring her weapon down in a dangerous downwards arc. Swaying to the side, Yūma slammed his boot down to either pin or, if he was lucky, break the naginata at the lowest point of the swing. He didn't have the luxury to focus on making further call outs, dueling had that effect of focusing the mind and attention to a razor's edge.

Naginata was dangerous, the plan in pinning or breaking the weapon a natural response to that, and further eliminating as much waste in his actions as possible. Put the female spirit on more equal footing with him, or at least eliminate the reach advantage for a moment. The back of his mind, not focused on dueling the spirit, had noted that she was more distinct, and broadly speaking far less impacted by the efforts of Agent Mae. Strange, though he would have to speculate with others later, as he used the twisting motion that came with his stomp to transfer into another strike, a snappy right hook aimed right for the ribcage of the spirit, aiming to start a chain of blows that would keep the spirit off kilter until banished from the damage. He might need to look into getting some sort of blessings or modifications done to his brass knuckles, something that he should have done in retrospect, but for the time being it was the honest way. One blow at a time.
Rolan was expecting a lot of different outcomes. Being dumped upside down in Silenna's home while she was eating her dinner was not one of them, grunting from the sudden impact and lack of time to brace for it. Getting himself righted and at least on his feet, he was just in time to see Witch Merilia throwing all that magical weight that a Witch was implied to have, at least in presence, before being gone again just like that. Picking himself up fully, and getting the rest of his personal effects in order, he looked back at his newfound mentor and gave an almost apologetic shrug. His nerves felt frayed from the brief exposure to what felt like everything slipping away, at least for a moment, in a way he couldn't put to words, but it wouldn't do to show that.

"Easiest way to prove things. Soup would be nice, actually, thank you."

Seating himself across from the woman, he had to give thought to what the Witch had said. Certain things he was not supposed to learn, or else be trapped here as well. Rolan wouldn't admit it out loud but that immediately had piqued his curiosity as to what was so important that it couldn't leak back to the real world...yet. Being here until it caught up implied that there was things to come that would bring knowledge here in this place in line with what was out there. If the Witch had found knowledge from ahead of where, no, when they were currently, that could be useful. Not 'trapped for an indeterminate amount of time' useful, mind, but if there was a way of learning it without being stuck might just be useful. Something to keep in mind if the opportunity came up, unlikely as that was.
"A sound beginning, memorization will go back with me when this is said and done. It's a deal then, I will return once I have proof."

Rolan would excuse himself at that point, the next task already being considered. Proof he was not just another copy floating around this whole dreamscape, which was something that he, quite frankly, could not simply provide. Possibly a request designed to be impossible by design, but there was one way that came to mind as he brainstormed, heading for the outskirts of the city, someplace comfortable he could wait at for awhile. After all, there was no promise nor guarantee that this was going to even work, let alone work in a timely manner. Seating himself in a quiet, isolated location he could be confident in not being interrupted at, he unslung his crossbow and begun performing routine maintenance on the weapon, starting with restringing the weapon and going from there, speaking out loud to, at least to appearances, to no one in particular.

"Witch Merilia, when you have a moment please."

That was his best, frankly only, bet to proving he wasn't just some copy, at least well enough to appease Silenna. He could make all the claims he wanted, say whatever he pleased, true or not, but it wouldn't prove anything from a pragmatic point of view. Quite simply, he needed someone to back up his claims. And finding another copy to claim he was not also a copy wouldn't accomplish much of anything. Now, should he get the one maintaining this to state otherwise, well, that would be far harder to argue. Now, whether or not Merilia would even humor him was another matter completely, and he would brainstorm as he worked, considering other methods of proving he was real while waiting and performing maintenance to pass the time. It was long overdue anyways, as far as he could tell at any rate, and he wasn't going back empty handed, not yet.
Things were not going smoothly, by all accounts. Yūma noted that A-188 was actually thrown back by the ghostly samurai, the source of this whole mess, as more Ashigaru rose up, though Agent Mae's purification was slowing the efforts of the lesser spirits. Still, he found himself slamming his last magazine home and continuing to pick off gunners, buying time for Agents Zhao and Murakami to engage and bring down the Samurai leader of this mess. As much as he would love to also get stuck in, too many people would just get in each other's way and interfere with each other. Five bullets left, he mentally considered, just in time to glance and see a powerful form trying to advance on Agent Mae. No, they could not have that, and he turned on heel, aiming two rounds at its knees to cripple its advance before putting another two aimed for its head. One bullet left, save that one for an emergency, and as he swapped to his brass knuckles again, he spotted a female looking spirit forming with a naginata and more ashigaru heading for the rear team. Not on his watch.

"Engaging the flankers! Keep anything else off Agent Mae if your not engaged with the primary threat!"

A quick dashing sprint brought Yūma across to burst out of the smoke, a lunging haymaker smashing the first ashigaru back into the ground, a combination of momentum and its already weakened state combining to dispatch it in rapid fashion. Keeping his momentum, the former officer moved fast for the naginata wielding spirit, aiming to get within her guard and reach before she can bring the deadly sharp blade and reach to a good advantage against them. His strategy was simple, evade and turn that evasion momentum into another swing, keeping low and quick to hopefully prevent the naginata wielder from getting any leverage in putting her weapon to dangerously good use. Maybe this one would prove to be more interesting than buckling under the barrage of blows.

@Raineh Daze@Izurich@OwO@Rune_Alchemist@PKMNB0Y@Psyker Landshark@VitaVitaAR
"If I'm a meathead, you really don't want to deal with the other knights."

Rolan made no attempt to remark on violent, it was the very nature of his profession to conduct violence on those who he was told to target. Typically they deserved it, traitors, bandits, and the like, but there was no debating his methods. Still, as he listened to Silenna's rationalizing on wasting her time on him and starting to come up with a reason, he calmly waited for her to make a decision. She was fond of her backhand insults and compliments, though far from equal in measure, but arguing the point would just be wasted breath. Rather, he focused on the rambling prior to agreeing to 'waste her time' on him, she had a plan. Likely get someone outside this dreamscape to yank her out, which meant he was going to owe a debt coming out of this. So be it, better that than continuing to headbutt a wall, metaphorically speaking, and he was direct to the point once again.

"So, once terms for your assistance are discussed, when do we begin? I will learn anything you have to teach, you never know when something may prove useful."

@Raineh Daze
"I'm not a magical ghost, I'm with the current Iron Roses, one of quite a few dropped into this whole situation to train. Anything you teach will not be wasted on someone long passed just trying to pass the time, on that you have my word."

Rolan did not overtly respond to the backhanded remark on his looks, though if physical attractiveness could sway her decision to any beneficial degree he would accept it readily enough. Looks weren't something he normally leaned on, charming people he hunted down before the Iron Roses, or the people he hunted down after joining the Roses was not an applicable skill. He had little interest going back to the drawing board on what to do with his training time in this place, which meant getting through to this woman not only the sincerity of his desire to further himself in alchemical studies, but to actually convince her to help. Unlike the Legends, she had no obligation or agreement to provide any assistance, which did make this slightly more difficult.

@Raineh Daze
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